


April Fools Day - Not Just for the 1st Anymore!

by DixieDale



Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Garrison's Gorillas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-23 18:10:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18155279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: Garrison's guys were an unusually inventive bunch, and with April 1st coming up fast, that thought alone was enough to make Sergeant Major Rawlins and Lieutenant Craig Garrison cringe.  The Sergeant Major had been dreading the day for a full month, though perhaps not more than Garrison himself.  What would it bring?Well, nothing of import, considering the team was off on a job. By the time they got back, April Fools' Day was over and past, and the Lieutenant and the Sergeant Major both thought they could just relax.  Right?  Yeah, right!!!





	April Fools Day - Not Just for the 1st Anymore!

It had started with them being away on a job over April 1st. Garrison hadn't thought anything about it, being involved in pulling a beautiful con on the Germans. The Sergeant Major HAD, but was just relieved to have the peace and quiet, not that he'd wish the guys to be over the Channel and in danger, of course, but well, you know. 

In fact, he'd mentioned that to Garrison on their return, about being glad the day had come and gone. Little did they know that the guys had talked about just that thing their first free night down at the pub.

 

"So we missed it. We were gone that big holiday of Meghada's, the Winter Solstice or whatever she called it, too, weren't we? We celebrated THAT the first chance we got. We're out and gone for Christmas, we don't just write it off totally! No reason we can't celebrate April Fools' Day on something other than the 1st, not under the circumstances," Casino argued, and considering the number of drinks they'd all shared at the round table at the pub, that made sense. Well, too much liquor can make some amazingly bad ideas seem to make sense.

So it was they made their plans, some individually, some joint endeavors, and went to sleep with smiles of anticipation on each of their faces. If Garrison could have seen those smiles, HE wouldn't have gotten any sleep at all.

The morning of April 11th rolled around to a loud exclamation of shocked dismay from Sergeant Major Gil Rawlins. He'd opened the dispatch bag, read the paperwork enclosed and couldn't imagine what had caused his two most dependable men to go on a tear like that.

"Sergeant Major? Problems?" Garrison inquired from the doorway.

"Looks like, but for the life of me I can't figure out w'at 'appened or why I 'aven't 'eard about this before! Seems Privates Perkins and Jenkins got themselves in a bit of a pickle over Bristol way, gonna be arrested later this afternoon. 'Ere, take a look at this!" handing over the orders demanding the two men, the ones elected to be pretty much his personal assistants, be turned over to a special guard delegation due to arrive later that day, to be held on charges of 'public drunkenness and lewd behavior involving a sheep, two organ grinder's monkeys, and a local Salvation Army matron'. 

Garrison frowned in disbelief, putting aside the distracting question of where the hell they'd found the monkeys, never mind just what that lewd behavior might have consisted of.

"Perkins and Jenkins??" Those were two of the most reliable men in the unit, Jenkins a rather shy young man, Perkins being positively bookish. He took another look at the orders, laid back his head and groaned. "Take another look at the signature, the carbon copy notation, Gil," handing the paperwork back to the bemused Sergeant Major.

Rawlins wasn't sure those were the two most important parts of that astonishing order, but he complied. Then his own groan filled the air.

"Signed: Colonel G. O. Tcha. CC: April S. Foolsday 

"Lieutenant! Those lads of yours are going to drive me stark raving mad one of these days!!!"

Rawlins slid that set of orders into his desk drawer, sheepishly wondered just what his two privates would have thought of him confining them to their quarters for the rest of the day, awaiting arrest, if Garrison hadn't noticed those two little details. "Probably think I'd lost my bloody mind, that's what!"

Of course, he soon realized that as out of character as those charges were, he himself would have gone over those orders with a fine toothed comb once he'd calmed down, and he was sure, pretty sure anyway, that he would have caught on before taking action, even without Garrison. At least he would have had questions about those monkeys.

Still, he was annoyed, and let Garrison know it. Garrison had found it mildly amusing, but was also slightly apprehensive about the rest of the day considering how it had started.

Well, Garrison wasn't all that thrilled to sit down to his paperwork only to find his morning cup of coffee, complete with its matching lid to keep it warm, contained only a rather annoyed frog instead of its usual contents. The murky smell of the pond water in the bottom hadn't calmed Garrison's uneasy stomach one little bit, and the frog's mad leap for freedom had splattered Garrison's shirt liberally.

It was the next episode that seemed to push things off on a tangent. Garrison and Sergeant Major were at the end of the obstacle course discussing some potential upgrades when the shouting started. The startled yells of alarm from the tower, where they practiced their parachute jumping and a few other acrobatic skills, brought them at a run, skidding to a halt at the awful sight of one of the men tangled in the rigging, neck at an awful angle. 

"Chief!!!" - it had to be Chief, from the dark hair, since Actor was standing there looking up in shock, and Casino was scurrying up the side of the tower. Goniff was nowhere to be seen, was probably tossing his cookies in the undergrowth considering his twitchy stomach.

Garrison was up the side of the tower so fast he got to the dangling figure a little ahead of Casino. Later, of course, he would realize Casino had slowed down just enough to allow that to happen. Grabbing the braces with one arm, he leaned out to grab the tangled lines, to pull his man in to safety, but already having the dread feeling that he was too late, maybe would have been too late as soon as Chief had made the jump and fouled the lines. There was just something ominous about the way that limp body was swaying in the breeze.

It was the weight of the body that tipped him off, or rather, the lack of weight. The shock caused him to lose his grip and almost fall; only Casino's quick reactions had prevented that, though it took both Casino and Goniff, who'd appeared seemingly out of thin air, working together to get the Lieutenant's feet back on the metal bracing, preventing a very nasty fall.

Garrison was white-faced and tight lipped by the time a rather sheepish Casino helped him lower the dummy stuffed with rags, round head flopping over to the side, dark wig starting to come loose.

"I gather this was supposed to be another delayed April Fools' prank?" he demanded. The faint hopeful smile from Goniff told him the story, along with the perhaps more genuinely remorseful looks on the rest of the guys' faces. 

Yeah, his guys could get up to some of the damnest things Garrison had ever come up against. He'd lectured, he'd warned, he'd delivered ultimatums, and nothing had seemed to work. Now, with them starting up their delayed April Fools pranks the second week of April, him and Sergeant Major Rawlins on the receiving end of three before the morning was over, he'd had enough. Now he decided it was time to teach them a good lesson, make them see their nonsense from someone else's point of view, see how out-of-hand their pranks could get. 

After a good stiff drink shared by a still-shaken Gil Rawlins, Garrison called for Actor. At least he figured the older con man would listen to reason. When Garrison heard the next item on the agenda, he decided it was time to teach his wayward cons, especially the highly-imaginative Goniff, a little lesson about pranks and how they could go wrong.

 

How Goniff convinced Casino to try that new 'pull-up exercise' he'd rigged in the attic, no one knows. Well, no one who knows is talking, anyway. There was some talk about 'photographs' and 'girlfriends', but nothing that made much sense in the later recounting to an incredulous Lieutenant Garrison. But it was a grinning little Englishman who stood in the framed doorway to the attic, looking at a shorts-clad Casino now bound by the wrists with manacles and chains leading over a rafter high above. 

"You little squirt! When I get outta these, I swear . . . "

"Now, now, Casino. Don't get all flustered like. I just gotta go get the camera; be right back. Unless the Warden wants me to go run the obstacle course. Or I feel the need for a drink down at the pub. Or decide to take a nap. Just spend your time doing pull-ups and such, get a nice 'eavy sweat going! Would look marvelous in the pictures, you know! Rugged man of action and all that! Ta ta!" 

And he was gone.

Thirty minutes later Goniff was in the Common Room, grinning to himself, when the huge crash from above shook the room. His blue eyes swung upward to the dust motes drifting down, and a cry of "ruddy 'ell, Casino!! W'at'd you do now???!" burst from him. Even the most neutral of observers would have seen the unfairness of that reproof, especially coming from him.

It was the whole crew that ran for the door, coming from where ever they'd been, but Actor had been closer, it seems, and when they poured through the doorway, it was Actor already kneeling beside the pile of rubble and chains and a limp shorts-clad body. His serious eyes lifted to look at them, and it was with a grim, very slow shake of his head that he let them know the outcome.

Goniff was past pale, he was more grey than white. He started to move toward Casino, but Garrison held him back with a hand on his shoulder. The Englishman's stricken blue eyes looked into the stern green ones, his voice just a hoarse rasp.

"It was a prank, that's all. A joke. I never meant 'e should get 'urt. Just a prank . . ." his voice dying off.

Garrison's eyes moved back to the still body on the floor. "Well, Goniff, he didn't GET hurt, now did he? He got a lot more than that! All for another one of your little pranks that went too far." Somehow looking back into those wide blue eyes, Garrison wondered if he was going too far himself, and he started to relent. 

But by then Goniff had pulled away, and with one look back at the body, at Actor, catching that quick telling glance he'd seen between the tall Italian and the Lieutenant, he whirled and was out of the door before anyone could stop him.

Garrison quickly shut the door, the grim look on his face turning to pure amusement as he motioned everyone to silence. Chief looked at him like he was crazy, but understood when Actor grinned and started removing the 'rubble' from Casino's body. 

Casino sat up, chuckling low under his breath. "Teach him to leave me hanging around in a cold attic in my skivvies!" 

Garrison was sure this would be the turning point, when Goniff would finally understand just how far wrong even a simple practical joke could go.

Their mood quickly changed when a frowning Sergeant Major opened the door, looked at the men in bewilderment and concern, especially at Casino still covered in dust and debris, but then shook his head and continued about the business that had brought him searching for Garrison so quickly.

"Lieutenant, w'at's Goniff needing with your revolver?"

"What??!" Garrison's head snapped around, a deep chill hitting him in the gut.

Rawlins shrugged, "dashed into your office, grabbed it out of the drawer and took off! We aint got another snake, 'ave we?? Thought we got rid of all those!" He turned back to the landing, had taken only a couple of steps, then suddenly gave a yell, though they couldn't decipher what he'd said.

A gunshot rang through the old house, the men took one incredulous look at each other and ran in the direction it had come from, halting at the top of the stairs, looking down, freezing at the sight. The huddled figure on the floor below looked even smaller than usual, the dripping red obscene against the ashen blond hair and Goniff's right temple and down onto his face, the gun clasped in his right hand.

They dashed down, Sergeant Major at the side now almost wailing into the telephone receiver, "best come, miss, there's been an accident! 'Urry, miss! First Casino, now Goniff! I think 'e might be dead! Glory, Miss, they've all gone bloody well mad!"

Still laying with his face angled away from his potential audience, Goniff's eyes popped open. He'd wondered how long, just how far he could play this out, having caught on to the whole con at that tiny wink from Actor to Garrison in the attic earlier. 

He'd been planning on waiting to the last minute, then grinning, sitting up and saying "Gotcha!", but overhearing Rawlins now, realizing who had to be on the other end of that phone, that made him give a loud groan of dismay and sit up. Suddenly it wasn't so funny after all!

"Ruddy 'ell, Sergeant Major! Don't bring 'Gaida inta this!! Gonna be 'ell to pay she gets involved!!" Goniff protested in a loud yell.

The men starting to gather around reared back in shock. 

"Goniff! God DAMN it, Goniff, I swear . . . !!!!" The outburst from Garrison overrode everything coming from the others, ringing in their ears.

Garrison didn't care if he didn't sound much like an officer right then; his heart was thumping like it was likely to burst, right along with his head, and from the looks on the faces around him, he wasn't the only one.

Rawlins, after an incredulous look at the little Cockney now sitting upright wiping that soured strawberry jam out of his eyes, was frantically clicking the phone, but it was dead. Obviously Meghada was already on her way. 

"Well, 'e's right about one thing. Now there really WILL be 'ell to pay!" he muttered to himself. Taking a good look at Garrison and the others, he added, "would likely 'ave been even without the O'Donnell lass being involved in the first place!"

The screech of tires in the circle outside, the thud as the door crashed open, and then the quick footsteps stopped dead in their tracks at the door to Garrison's office, at the sight of a glowering Garrison grimly pouring a drink into the glasses each man held. Well, except for a sheepish Goniff who was in front of the mirror trying to wipe away the last of that strawberry jam from his hair.

Meghada took a deep breath, trying to get her racing heart to slow down, trying to keep that rising heat of her temper under control. She thought her voice was reasonably calm when she asked, "would someone like to explain what in the bloody hell is going on around here??!" 

The fact that the first words were spoken in something close to a whisper, the last few in a shout they could probably hear in the village pointed to her possibly not having quite as much control as she'd hoped.

She heard them out, one by one, their pranks, including the ones they'd played on Garrison, the one at the tower at Goniff's instigation, the others they'd planned but hadn't had the opportunity to put into play. She heard about Garrison trying to nip those in the bud by teaching the Englishman, with a little help from Actor and Casino, a lesson of his own. And the final prank Goniff had played in retaliation, the one resulting in that mad dash from her cottage to the Mansion.

Yes, they all looked reasonably remorseful, Garrison in particular. And at least where Garrison was concerned, this was probably a lesson well learned. As for the rest of them, well, that was possibly the case, but she had her doubts. She knew the guys far too well.

In any case, she had a few, well, quite a few, choice words for the whole lot of them, including the hapless Sergeant Major in her lecture just because he was standing there. And it was a particularly stern lecture, one that left them feeling ten years old, six inches tall, and sweating up a storm. And that was just Garrison and the Sergeant Major!

She had accepted a glass of inferior bourbon, at the end of her lecture, offered by a hesitant Garrison, drained it in one quick gulp, not even caring about the look on Garrison's face as he watched in disbelief as she held the empty glass out for a refill. 

Goniff had sidled over, wrinkled his nose, genuinely remorseful this time, to give his own apology.

"Didn't think about anyone calling you, 'Gaida. You know I wouldn't want you to worry and such!"

She'd glowered at him for a couple of very tense moments, before she touched the back of her fingers to his cheek. "Laddie, I do love you, you know that. But I swear, sometimes I think Kevin is right - you need to be hung by your ankles from the rafters and fed on bread and water for a few days, just to make you bloody well think!!!" 

The room broke up when Casino, overhearing that admonishment, groaned. "Hell, Meghada! Don't go giving him any new ideas! He can come up with more than enough on his own, and besides, don't think those rafters need any more of a workout."

That caused a sharp protest from the Englishman, "ei, and just who's idea was it to . . . .", the others joining in, and the four-way argument was off and running.

Meghada exchanged an exasperated but reluctantly amused look with Craig Garrison. While the attention was focused elsewhere, she suggested,

"Next time, Craig, perhaps you should just let them stick with their OWN ideas; yours are just feeding the fire!"

Garrison wasn't sure that was all that fair, but he had to agree; it really probably was better that way. Especially when she gave HIM a second, private lecture once the guys headed off to the pub. 

"You don't want him second-guessing himself all the time, Craig. That's why, no matter how I scolded, I DIDN'T bring up one of you tumbling down the stairs in a rush to get to him, breaking your leg, maybe your neck in the process. Or me crashing the car in a mad dash to get here. Yes, I thought of all that, all that could have happened, but that's not something he needs to be dwelling on, not now. Not with all the jobs you guys get up to; you don't want him spooked to the point of freezing, thinking about all the consequences. His impulsiveness is what lets him do what's needed in the field, you know, all that derring-do of yours being against his general inclination. That slip you took on the tower was more than enough to bring him back into line a little."

Well, Garrison agreed, of course. "But I know I'M going to be second guessing myself some now," remembering that huddled body on the floor.

She looked at him with an arched brow. "Actually, that might not be a bad idea; YOU don't do nearly enough of that to begin with, with the jobs OR with the guys!" 

Now Garrison REALLY thought that was unfair! Besides, that's what he had Casino for!

 

She'd left, headed back to whatever she'd been doing when she'd gotten that call, and Garrison headed back to his office, his head pounding with a headache he knew wasn't going to leave anytime soon. His eyes went to that slip of paper he kept on his desk, the one with outline of the 'Theme of the Month' activities Actor had so misbegottenly initiated with the guys. Gil Rawlins had followed him in, the Sergeant Major still visibly shaken by the events of the day.

"Well, at least it's a w'ole year before the next one, Lieutenant," the noncom offered.

Garrison ran his finger down that list once again. "Til April 1st, yes. Of course, we're into 'All in All I'd Rather Be In . . .' month, whatever the hell that might bring. It doesn't sound too bad, but you know the guys."

It made neither of them any too comfortable to realize they might not know, but were bound to find out any day now. Well, now that the guys had the April Fools stuff out of the way, they could focus on the month at hand.

And then," and he winced, remembering last year, "then, it's 'the Merry Month of May-hem again'. Gil, I just don't know how much more I can take," he admitted, reaching into his desk drawer, and then groaning when he remembered the whiskey had been downed in the Common Room during that last de-briefing, and they'd just finished the last of the bourbon.

"Never you mind, sir. 'Ave a pint in my desk. I'll fetch it. But better replace that bottle; 'ave a feeling you're going to be needing it. Think I might just pick up a spare for myself," Rawlins said in a decidedly gloomy tone of voice. "The 'All in All I'd Rather Be In . . . W'at does that even mean, Lieutenant??"


End file.
